Buxacan Spicerunner Read online

  As for the Agresians, Whitewing had gone down with all hands, one brig was burning uncontrollably, and the other drifted under half sails, crewed only by bloody corpses. The sloop had been boarded, taken and scuttled.

  Stinger rejoined the Fleet in time to begin the bombardment of the fort. Port Therma took ten broadsides from each ship of the Red Fleet, but the fort was only able to return fire three times before displaying a white flag. Swift was closest when the garrison surrendered, thus Stiv was the first to arrive at the docks.

  “Seize control of the best houses you see and push the people outside,” Stiv told his men. “Herd them into the central square.”

  Soon the Falcon and Hawk joined him at the docks. The Featherheads moved to secure the fort and subdue any soldiers who weren’t ready to surrender. Stiv joined one of the larger groups of his Bluehats and went looking for loot and liquor.

  In the third house they took, they caught a Featherhead raping a Clavvish house slave. Before anyone could move, the girl snatched the Featherhead’s knife and stabbed him with it.

  “Fair enough,” said Stiv. “Run, you’re free now. Keep the knife.” She spat on her rapist and darted past the Bluehats and down the stairs. “Wait,” Stiv said, but she was gone. She had left her dress on the floor.

  “Help me,” the Featherhead croaked.

  “Not bloody likely. You know the rules: you don’t vall unwilling women.”

  “She was willing…”

  “Yeah, that’s why she stabbed you!” one of Stiv’s men said.

  “Loot the house,” Stiv commanded. “Let him bleed to death right there on the floor. Somebody cut off his stap, so when his own brothers find him, they’ll know why he’s there.”

  The Red Fleet stayed for two days and cleaned out every warehouse, business and home. One wall of the slave pen had been breached by their bombardment, and over five hundred ‘head’ of stock had escaped. Captain Treauville culled the Clavs out from the captives camped in the square and set them free as well.

  After the sailors of enterprise had finished with the town, they turned their attention to the five merchant runners in the harbor. Four were slavers who hadn’t taken on their ‘cargo’ yet. Unfortunately for them, they had plenty of coin for their purchases. One captain actually cried. He was ruined.

  “Good,” said one of the Burners present. “Even our profession has more honor in it than yours.”

  The last ship was owned by a Hanarran and was loaded with finished tobacco products. That captain didn’t cry or complain as he watched the Bluehats stealing a fortune. “Could you leave me enough food and water to get home?” Stiv packed his pipe and lit it before answering. “I don’t see a reason not to. This is fine stuff!”

  “It’s from my father-in-law’s plantation. I think when I get home I’ll talk to him about managing it, like he wanted me to.”

  “Tired of being the captain of a runner?”

  “Tired of the risk. Your guys have been gentlemen about it, but what if next time some other crew of….uh—”

  “Sailors of enterprise,” Stiv prompted.

  “Yes. What if they decide it would be fun to torture or kill me? As a farmer all I need to fret over is the weather.”

  “Sounds boring.”

  “Boring but safe. I got a little girl and my wife’s pregnant again. Boring looks real good to me right now.” Stiv thought that was pretty funny.

  After they had finished with the ships, they cleaned out the armory. Weapons, shot and powder were always useful to sailors of enterprise. In the end, Argi estimated their haul to be upwards of fifty thousand Agresian flames. The Red Brothers were amazed at how easy it had been.

  27

  Komiver

  The Smilers had eight days of provisions left when they finally spotted a ship that was not flying Kimbulan colors.

  The Golden Sunrise was really showing her age and condition. She leaked mightily, requiring three men to constantly spell each other on the pump. Only one pump worked. Below the waterline, she was covered with weed and barnacles. Sako estimated that the hull cost them about six knots. The sails were thin and split with monotonous regularity. Nevertheless, they were still able to catch the little Agresian sloop they’d found. Afnir ran up the Bloody Smile and the runner struck her colors and hove to before Clenchjaw could fire a warning shot.

  Once aboard they found out why. The crew was shorthanded and there was much evidence of storm damage. Furthermore, they were sailing in ballast. Not only was there no cargo, there was very little money aboard.

  Olik’s professional beating of the captain produced the story that they were contracted for a prepaid cargo of pineapples, one way. Roughing up the rest of the crew produced one ember and a handful of coals. Disgusted, the Smilers took all of the ship’s necessaries: lumber, spare sails, rope and tools. They also cleared out the galley.

  Sako’s navigational equipment was better than theirs, so he left it. However they did steal the pump. Afnir magnanimously left them half a barrel of salt pork and a barrel of beer, and set them free.

  Ellor carefully noted down the coin taken. “After accounting for Anford’s share and what we still owe, each man’s share is actually a negative number. Would everyone please pay up immediately?”

  The Smilers howled with laughter.

  Afnir was not smiling and kept his back to his men. My first haul as captain and it’s a handful of copper! No cargo and I didn’t even have enough men for a prize crew to take the sloop itself. Fine captain I make. We’d do better with Komiver in command!

  Komiver was a sea legend, the sole survivor on a ghost ship that had appeared in Gateway a century ago. He signed aboard another ship that was wrecked in the Chains. Komiver survived that as well. The ship that rescued him stopped briefly in Seela, but was never seen again after she left. Komiver’s name had become synonymous with misfortune at sea. More than one sailor had disappeared at sea after being perceived as a Komiver.

  Despite the poor haul, the Smilers were in good spirits. Drac had no shortage of volunteers to help patch and replace sails, and Sturo supervised the successful installation of the second pump. They found their workload halved after that.

  They were now entering the Chains in earnest. Coral heads reared up from the bottom, clearly visible in the crystalline water. None were close enough to the surface to be a danger yet. Tiny islands were scattered over the horizon to the north and west, some large enough to support a few trees. Brightly colored fish were visible everywhere. Thard and Chos tried to catch some to supplement their food stores. Ellor soon took an interest as well.

  “We can’t eat that one, he’s poisonous,” Afnir said. Chos and Thard were examining Ellor’s latest catch, a pale yellow round fish.

  “It’s a blowfish. My grandmother said there was a secret to what part is good, but she never taught me. Throw it back.”

  “I’ll use him as bait,” said Ellor. He stabbed the fish and was amazed when it deflated. “Let’s see what down there wants to eat an injured blowfish.” He tossed the fish over without releasing the hook. Within moments he’d attracted the attention of a large fish. The predator took the bait and ran so hard that Ellor was plucked right out of his chair. He was dragged to the rail and lost his line. Once they saw he was unharmed, Ellor’s fishing companions laughed at him.

  “What in Stessaca’s name was that?” Ellor asked, as they helped him back to the chair. “Was that a shark?”

  “Barracuda.”

  “Do they taste good?”

  “Doesn’t matter,” said Thard. “He got away.” Sako badly wanted to join them, but he was far too busy taking fixes and updating his charts. He’d only ever approached the Chains from the west and was confident only of the direct route from Braden to Ressatta. Sure knowledge of the reefs in the Chains might be very important someday. On the third morning in the Chains, the Smilers spotted a strange sail and gave chase.

  That lasted until dark, when they finally gave it up as a bad job. Th
ey hadn’t gained more than a thousand yards in twelve hours. The lookouts reported rough water and occasional reef heads all around, so Afnir ordered all sails reefed and the anchor put over.

  As the Crew ate their evening meal, Afnir sat alone in his cabin, seething. What am I doing wrong? He’d knit the former port and starboard watches into one Crew. He’d led the castaways back to port. So Tirpa had actually taken the Sunrise, but he hadn’t hesitated to turn it over to Afnir. Dason had saved them from the press-gang, but that was more dumb luck than leadership! And what good captain doesn’t use each crewman to the best of his abilities?

  He’d led and directed the taking of their first prize; it wasn’t his fault that there was nothing worth taking other than the sloop itself, nor was it his fault that his Crew was too small to form a prize crew. And today! Full new canvas and favorable winds and they’d never gained on their quarry. They probably didn’t even know they were being chased. No one was grumbling yet, but he knew he had better turn it around soon. Or else they’ll decide I am the Komiver aboard.

  They came upon a Sevulian runner tacking toward them. In response to the ‘I-Y’ signal, Afnir ran up Kimbulan colors and a parley signal. He waited until they were in gun range, and then struck the false flag in favor of their Bloody Smile. Kostek pushed the helm over and Clenchjaw fired a warning shot that splashed water on their helmdeck.

  The Sevulians turned about and broke out all sail. Clenchjaw fired both of his other guns from the port battery and missed. Afnir shouted desperate orders and the sails were reset as Kostek turned to chase. Regardless of the Smilers’ best efforts, the Sevulian cruised away like an offended serving girl from an obnoxious flatterer too drunk to stand. In a quarter of an hour they were out of gun range. Afnir continued the chase, but the Sevulian was hopelessly out of reach by the end of the watch.

  “Call it off,” Afnir said disgustedly to Tirpa. Without waiting for an acknowledgement, Afnir stormed to his cabin and slammed the door. A little while later Tirpa, Thard and Sako entered without knocking. As expected, the last bottle of wine stood empty before the captain. Afnir sat with his arms crossed on the table, slumped so that his chin rested on them. He glared at them morosely.

  “It’s the Council, is it? Come to put the Komiver down? Who’s to do better?”

  The other Smilers were a bit taken aback by the reference to Komiver. They’d heard the word whispered on deck more than once.

  The surgeon recovered first. “The Crew hasn’t called for the Council, Captain. Your officers merely wish to speak privately with you, sir.”

  “No one’s losing faith in you,” said Tirpa. “Been some bad luck, but not like there’s being a Komiver aboard. Not your fault.”

  “Damn right it’s not!” Afnir scowled. “Even so; I’m still responsible. Stowe did everything wrong, and we still took more under him than I’ve ever gotten us!” He tipped up the bottle, realized it was empty, and flung it against the bulkhead. “Stessaca’s eyes, what do I do? We’ve enough food for two weeks not counting fish, and enough beer and water for sixteen days. What then? If we turn back to Port Buxaca now, we’d all go hungry for a few days. Selling the Sunrise won’t pay off our debt either. Then we scatter and join other Crews? I’ll be the laughing stock of the whole island! Captain Sanfora, the worst sailor of enterprise to ever sail the Buxacan Sea!”

  “You’re not the worst ever, Afnir,” Sako said. “Stowe was. And not a hand aboard thinks you’re a Komiver. There’s something we can do to improve our chances: we need to careen this tub, and let Sturo put a work crew to fixing the leaks.” Sako paused to light a cigar. He only had three left. “We’ve got two and a half feet of water sloshing around in our holds, and that’s with every hand but you and Ellor working the pumps all watch, every watch. The hull is so fouled with barnacles and weed and worm that we might as well already be in the Tanglesea.”

  “If we’re finding a large enough island, we’re reprovisioning,” said Tirpa. “Got powder for hunting and Brog has his bow. A little luck and we’re finding a spring. Plenty of fruit here in the Chains.”

  “As your surgeon, I recommend shore leave for the Crew, Captain. Some fresh food that wasn’t swimming a few hours ago—especially fruit—and some rest would do a world of good.”

  Afnir had been visibly brightening as his friends spoke. He sat up straighter and began to fuss with his shirt.

  “The order has to come from you, Afnir. Captain.”

  “All right, gentlemen. Let’s make it happen. Lookouts to find a large island with a beach suitable for careening. Set a course north by northwest. The reefs are getting shallower, so we’ll have to take it slowly.”

  “Slow,” Sako said with a wry smile, “the Golden Sunrise can handle.”

  28

  The Jono Frigate

  It took less than a full day’s sail and a course alteration further to the north to find what the Smilers were looking for. The island was almost tailor-made for their purposes. It was a few miles long by one wide and heavily wooded, with a reef-protected beach. There were two gaps clearly visible in the reef that would allow egress for a ship. There was even a wreck beached forlornly to the port side of the near entrance.

  Afnir sent a boat commanded by Chos to take soundings in the lagoon. He was pretty sure the depth was sufficient, judging by the size of the derelict, but then how was she wrecked? In any case, Thard had cleared Chos for exercise and Chos needed to know that his captain had confidence in his abilities. The boat rowed around the lagoon, taking soundings as she went. Then they dropped off Balgo at the wreck and returned to the Sunrise.

  “Tide’s rising right now, and the bottom doesn’t come up until about two fathoms from the shoreline. I sent Balgo to see if there’s anything we can use over there.”

  “Well done. Take the boat to the beach and we’ll sail in before the tide swings.” The Smilers drove their ship directly onto the beach. Balgo reported some useful lumber on the derelict, and some cannonballs too large for their guns.

  “Before we’re exploring any more, we should be hauling the ship over.”

  “Tirpa’s right. Get the lumber, provisions and guns out.”

  Once that was done they forced the ship higher onto the beach by using trees as pulleys. They pulled the stern around until the Sunrise was parallel to the shoreline. Lines were made fast to the masts and she was painfully heaved onto her side. By now it was nearly dark and high tide, so Afnir called a halt.

  They went back beyond the woodline until they found a clearing with the remains of a firepit. A cookfire was lit and Drac was sent back to the ship. He reported what most already suspected: no light was visible from the beach. Balgo made them a meal of pancakes mixed with salt pork.

  Afnir ordered the watch schedule maintained. “We’re as vulnerable as we’ll ever be with the ship beached and her guns out,” he said. The night was alive with insect sounds and bites. There also seemed to be quite a lot of wildlife from the noise.

  In the morning, Brog and Aler went hunting in opposite directions. A troop of monkeys harangued the sailors from the trees, throwing fruit and offal at them until Dason shot one. They stopped screaming at once and disappeared. Balgo was sent up the trees, much like a monkey himself, to gather fruit.

  As the tide wasn’t fully out, the others went to explore the wreck. Her name was Predator and she’d been there for some time. A tattered and moldy black flag was found in the cabin, but nobody recognized the sword and hourglass device. There were no mortal remains and no marked graves nearby.

  “These scars in the wood are coming from grapeshot, boys.” Tirpa fingered the depressions in the hull. “Predator was caught unawares, I’m thinking.”

  “They were finished here,” Dason agreed. “We might be too, if we’re not done before someone else shows up.” They gathered up the useful lumber and got to work on the hull of the Golden Sunrise.

  The barnacles and weed had to be burned and scraped off and rotted planks were removed and discard
ed. Sturo was everywhere, inspecting ribs as they were exposed.

  “So far she’s actually pretty sound,” he reported to Afnir. “It’s only some of the planks are rotten and the chinking is crumbled, but the ribs are fine. Some fresh lumber, oakum and pitch and paint…”

  By the time the tide came back in, the entire portside had been repaired, but still required pitching. Aler returned, dragging a goat and carrying several ducks. Balgo had collected a fair amount of fruit as well, but it was Brog they were happiest to see. He carried a boar over his shoulders and dragged a makeshift travois bearing the sow and piglets. The Smilers feasted that night. More than one bemoaned their lack of spirits, and there was precious little tobacco for after, but overall it was the best meal they’d had in weeks.

  The next day they were up before the sun to finish the port side of the hull. They finished in time for the tide change, refloated the Sunrise and spun her to do the other side.

  Ellor was set up with a table near the Predator so he could sketch her and the others fell into an exhausted sleep. They had to wait for the tide to retreat again.

  Something in the water caught Ellor’s eye and he called excitedly, “I think there’s a cannon down there!”

  “I’ll look,” said Finve. He waded out, took a few deep breaths and plunged under. The others watched through the clear water as he swam to the suspected ordnance, looked it over and kicked off for the surface, as gracefully as any fish.

  “He’s right! Long nines, one on top of the other. Throw me a line—they’re only two fathoms down; just deep enough to hurt my ears. We can raise them!”

  “Hold fast,” said Afnir. “Why are they there? Are they spiked?”

  “I don’t think so. I’ll make the line fast and you can haul it up enough so I can check the bottom. If it’s good, I’ll give two tugs.”